I Don't Get It
by I Write Big
Summary: A song can bring people together. A rhythm can encapsulate an entire culture. A lyric can inspire a generation. This is what Nick has always heard, but it was never what he felt. Nick doesn't understand music. It didn't really bother him until Judy got involved. Now he wants to understand. He wants to hear what everyone else does. He wants to get it. [Weird Feels, Lil Angst]
1. Introduction

_This story ain't exactly a romance. This story ain't exactly a drama. This story ain't exactly anything. But it is a story._

 _This is a strange one, people. Strap yourselves in and crank the dial up to 11!_

* * *

"I DON'T GET IT"  
Part 1

By: I Write Big

" _This place reeks of wet fur,"_ Nick thought to himself.

Granted, the open air stadium helped alleviate his nose immensely. He couldn't begin to imagine the stench he would be choking on if the Gazelle concert was _indoors_. With nothing better to do, he decided to observe the mammals dancing around him to the eardrum shattering song. Most were keeping to the beat but others, to Nick's bewilderment, were gyrating far too quickly as if they were at a completely different show. Some seemed to be getting rather intimate which made him raise an eyebrow. He could've sworn this was a song about going out of your safe zone and being adventurous. That _could_ be interpreted as taking a romantic risk, but the upbeat warm tempo lent more towards following your dreams and never giving up.

The fox's musings were interrupted by a swift bump to his side. The culprit was the energetic bunny who had eagerly invited him here tonight as a Police Academy graduation gift. He saw the glint in her eyes and knew she wanted him to move. Nick inwardly sighed.

" _Eh, basic festive rhythm. I got this."_ Nick resorted to his default dance move. A little hip swivel with some arm movement and suddenly he was part of the crowd. Judy seemed happy enough with his efforts and turned her attention back to the stage. Almost immediately, he felt a cramp creep up his leg, which forced him to slow down.

Taking deep breaths, he focused his attention to the stage for something to distract him from the pain. The spinning, pulsating, hypnotic lights were basically a dumbed down laser show. The same 10 second loop kept repeating itself over and over. " _Left, right, left, right, spin, spin, up, down, twirl. Boring._ " His attention lazily drifted to the large tiger background dancers. " _Surprised Fluffbutt isn't freaking out about those outfits. They're practically flashing the audience. Pretty sure there are kids here._ " He decided to give the headliner some attention. " _Wow…_ _If I had a girl with those kinda hips..._ "

He felt Judy tug on his arm. He looked down and was a little confused by the concern she was showing him.

"You okay?" her yell was barely heard over the endless cacophony.

"I'm fine. Why?" he shouted back.

"You stopped dancing," she pointed out.

Nick gritted his teeth and forced a smile, "Don't worry about it. Just a sore muscle." Her gaze hardened.

* * *

"Carrots, come on, we don't have to go?" Nick dragged his feet as they exited the stadium. While he was angry at himself for ruining the night for her, he was grateful for the peace and quiet.

"You're obviously not having a good time," she folded her arms.

"I'm having a great time! Let's get back in there before they lock us out. You already bought the tickets."

"For _you_ , Nick, this night is about _you_." She took out her phone and scrolled through the screen, "Now, I don't care what was going on in there. If it was too crowded, too loud or whatever. We don't need _Gazelle_ to have a good time. The two of us can have our own private concert right here!" The well known opening notes of ' _Try Everything_ ' started playing from Judy's phone speakers. She resumed her bouncy dancing and put on the most childish grin. Nick had to stop himself from laughing.

"Show me what you got, Nick."

He uncomfortably stared at her, "Uh..."

"Just you and me," she tried her best to reassure him.

"Excuse me," interrupted a firm voice. A domineering honeybadger in a tight security t-shirt was calling to them from the gates. "You can't do that out here."

"Do what? Dance?" asked Judy.

"Once the gate closes, the parking lot becomes private property," the guy informed with a tired glare. "You wanna party, you need to be indoors until the the show ends."

"Are you serious?!" Judy stepped towards the security guard, "What kind of stupid rule is that?"

Nick calmly took the phone from her paws and stopped the music. "Not a problem, my good mammal, we'll take our fun on the road. You have a nice night," he walked Judy towards the streets.

"The nerve of that guy! Some mammals just aren't happy unless they ruin someone else's day! I swear, if I get parking duty again, I'm gonna track down his car and-"

Nick pressed her phone back into her arms with a sly smile, "Don't say anything that could incriminate yourself, officer." He rubbed her head and stepped onto the street corner, "Don't worry, we can order a Zuber and listen to something on the radio."

"We don't have to call it now!" she desperately searched on her phone. "We could go to a karaoke bar or a jazz club! I heard the record store just got the new Ewe 2 album!"

Nick pinched the fur between his eyes as Judy spiraled into an idea-spewing mess. " _Why do all of her suggestions sound the same?_ "

"Carrots," he put a gentle paw on her shoulder, "I had fun. Don't stress yourself out."

She didn't look up, "You don't like Gazelle, do you?"

"...What?"

"That's what this is all about," her ears drooped. "Pop isn't your thing."

"Carrots..."

"But I stupidly thought, 'Hey, everyone loves Gazelle! Nick will be so excited to go!'"

"Will you let me-"

"I knew I should've asked what kind of music you were into, but after everything we went through together… I'm so sorry, Nick, I wanted this to be a surprise."

He watched her slump on the curb and hang her head in her paws. He rubbed his fingers across the phone in his pocket. Before he could change his mind, he took a seat and held it out for her. Little by little, she peeked out of her shame ball at him.

"What's this?"

"There's nothing weird on it, trust me," he prodded her with the green phone.

With a little apprehension, Judy took the device and pressed the home button. "Draw a blueberry," he instructed when she got to the lock screen.

She gave him a look before tracing a simple circle. She tapped the quarter note zootunes app button. The screen turned white for a couple seconds before the standard album folders appeared. She instantly went to 'Favorites' and waited with bated breath.

It was empty.

Judy blinked. She went back a page and chose 'Top 10.'

Barren.

"Here, let me speed things along," Nick hit 'Library' and the screen showed endless white.

Judy turned to the fox who was avoiding her gaze with a hint of embarrassment.

"I, uh… I don't get it," she said.

"Yeah, me neither, hehehehe," Nick chuckled nervously. He smiled widely at her but it was clear that the message wasn't getting across. He cleared his throat, "Music. I don't get music."

"You don't… you don't _buy_ music?" guessed Judy.

"That too but, no, what I meant was I don't listen to songs, I don't go to concerts, karaoke bars, jazz clubs, record stores or any of that because…" he searched for the right words, "I don't get it."

Judy blinked. "I don't get what you mean by you 'don't get it.'"

"Ugh!" he growled in frustration. "You know the feeling you get when you stop a crime before it even happens? The rush of a job well done? Feels _good_ right?"

Judy nodded.

"And when you hear music you like, does it also feel _good_?"

"Yeah… Not necessarily the same good, and it depends on the song, but I get what you're saying," she agreed.

"Well, when I hear music, I feel… nothing," his voice cracked with the last word. He expected her to overreact again and powered on through, "So you see? It wouldn't have mattered if you brought me here or some underground grunge scene. It's all the same to me and is most definitely _not your fault_. I don't wanna hear anymore of this 'I messed up' crap, okay?"

Without looking at her, he took back his phone, stood up and called a Zuber. The next several seconds were unbearably silent.

"This isn't something you like to talk about, huh?" her ears perked back up in the corner of his eye.

"Real conversation stopper when someone asks who's your favorite artist and you can't even name one."

"What about Gazelle?"

"Sure, _now_ I can name her, but if you asked me yesterday, I would've said, 'Who? The one with the nice hips?'" Nick immediately regretted those words. "Not that I knew she had nice hips yesterday! Did I say 'nice' again?"

"Bahahaha!" Judy gripped her sides, laughing deeply. "Hips? Jeez, Nick, you're a charmer."

The fox snickered along with the bunny, relieved the awkward tension had disappeared. "This isn't going to be a problem?" he asked after she'd calmed down.

Judy scratched her chin, "I mean, I've never really heard of anything like this. But we're partners. That means sticking together no matter our different tastes in music... or lack thereof." She then gave him a playful smirk, "You bet your tail I'm gonna bug the heck out of you about it. And hey, look on the bright side! The next time we face a criminal mastermind who's using music to take down Zootopia, you'll be our ace in the hole."

"Oh joy, can't wait," he deadpanned.

A car pulled up nearby. "Zuber for Nick!" the driver shouted.

"This is still your night, Nick," Judy followed him to the car. "What do you want to do?"

"Oh, I'm up for anything."

"Really? Would you say you want to _try everything_?" she wiggled her eyebrows at him and chortled at her own pun.

"Sure," he shrugged obliviously.

She pouted, "You're no fun anymore."

END PART 1

 _This is a story about all the little moments where music's lack of effect on Nick effects Nick's life, his job and his relationships._

 _Like I said, this is a strange one._


	2. Verses

_You're still here?_

 _Okay, glad to have you. Hope you stay until the end._

* * *

"I DON'T GET IT"

Part 2

By: I Write Big

"You're doing that on purpose," Nick clenched the wheel.

"Doing what?" Judy innocently asked from the passenger seat.

"Nobody hums a _lullaby_ in the middle of the day. Least of all in a car where they could potentially put the _driver_ to sleep."

"Did the song make you sleepy?" she leaned towards him a little too eagerly.

The past few weeks had been like this. Judy had gotten into the habit of somehow including some kind of music into the day. Whether through casual conversation, turning on the radio, or sharing Clawhauser's latest fanmade Gazelle music video. Each and every time, she'd carefully watch him. At first, Nick found it amusing and even a little endearing that his lack of response seemed to amaze her. After the twentieth time, though...

He gave her a sidelong glare.

She backed off, "Sorry. But, honestly, I wasn't trying to get a reaction out of you or anything. I was thinking of my mom."

Nick seemed lost. "What about her?"

"Oh, you know, how she'd sing a little tune for me and my brothers and sisters so we could sleep tight. We were too young to understand the words, but I can still hear the notes in my head. Went like, uh… Dumm-dee-dee, da-doo-dee-dumm, dudumm-dedumm… something like that."

"Doo-doo-dee-dee, dadee-deedoo," continued the handcuffed ram in the backseat. "Then it goes, dummdumm, dedeedee-da-da."

Judy beamed at their latest arrest, "Right, after that was, ladum-drumdoo..."

"Dadumm dedumm, deedee doodaaa..." the cop and the criminal finished together.

"'Sheep Grove,'" he nodded with a sad smile, "That's 'Sheep Grove,' my ma sang that to me too."

"Did she really? You remember the words?"

The ram ran his fingers through his wool, "I think I remember the story. It was about a little sheep lost in the forest, listening for her ma's voice so she could follow it home."

"Yeah… yeah, that sounds right," a bit of nostalgia rang in her voice.

The conversation seemed to abruptly end there. Nick spared a quick glance to find both of them clearly lost in a melancholy mood. Nick rolled his eyes, cleared his throat and sang,

"Away, away, in the deep dark wood, trembled a sheep who was always good.  
Alone and scared, she dreamt of home and wished she had never tried to roam.  
She wished and wished one after the other, until she swore she could hear her mother.  
Towards the voice she ran as hard as she was able, until she fell into the arms of an angel."

As he finished the lullaby, he pulled into the Precinct One parking lot and stopped the police cruiser. He turned to the others and jumped a little when he saw they were _crying_.

* * *

"Wilde, care to explain to me why the perp you brought in wasted his one phone call on his mother so he could sob to her that he was sorry?" Chief Bogo calmly cleaned his glasses while addressing the fox.

"Couldn't say, sir. We did book him for possession, maybe he was regretting his life decisions," Nick shrugged.

"Was Officer Hopps having regrets as well?" Bogo pointed to the bunny who was hugging her knees in the corner.

"What does 'fell into the arms of an angel' mean? Did the poor little sheep die? Did she make it home? Oh God! Mommy, why?!" she whimpered over and over.

"Chief, are you familiar with the lullaby 'Sheep Grove?'" he nervously smiled at his boss.

Nick waited for the big water buffalo to give him that signature growl and berate him for joking around.

Instead, a single tear rolled down Chief Bogo's cheek. "Take her home, Wilde. She's in no condition to be on patrol," he choked out. The cold titan of the ZPD marched back into his office. Nick could've sworn he heard a sniffle.

" _I'm the only sane one here!_ " Nick deduced.

* * *

For ten minutes Nick patiently waited for Judy to get out of the cruiser and go into her apartment. For ten minutes she had laid her head on his lap while she cried and demanded answers from nobody. For ten minutes she accused 'Sheep Grove' of actually being a sick cover up for 'Sheep Cemetery.'

 _For ten minutes!_

"I know, uh-huh, sure," Nick droned on, having lost all interest in the bunny's emotional lunacy.

"Why do you know the words?" she whispered.

Finally, hearing some cohesion, Nick looked down at her. Her bloodshot eyes drifted from the steering wheel to up towards him.

"I thought you didn't get music."

"Doesn't mean my mom didn't. She sang me that lullaby ever day for the first ten years of my life. After that, she still sang it whenever she went off on one of her 'Oh, you were so cute as a kit,' moments." Nick leaned back, "I've heard those words more times than I've drank a cup of coffee. I guess you bang your head against a wall enough times, you start memorizing the bricks."

"Bricks? It didn't help you go to sleep?"

"I never understood that. How does someone humming in your ear get you to relax?" he asked. Judy's eyes widened. She twisted her head in his lap until she got a clear look at his completely serious face. He couldn't help but feel like a freak show. "Don't look at me like... You said this wasn't going to be a problem."

"It's…" she tried to recover from his mystifying words, "they want you to feel safe. That someone who _cares_ is with you and nothing bad will happen. You found that annoying?"

"Not annoying. I got used to it. Singing obviously made mom happy, so I didn't stop her."

"But you _never_ felt anything when your own mother sang you a lullaby? That's so… sad!" a new wave of tears threatened to break.

"No! No no no no no no, my pants are wet enough. Come here," he quickly scooped her up, held her close, and rubbed her back. Her drooping ears were right by his snout, her fur tickled his jowls. Her attempts to hold it all in was making her hiccup. " _At this rate, my shirt is gonna be covered in bunny snot,_ " he concluded horrifically. He made sure the doors were locked and the windows were shut before he cleared his throat.

"The angel carried her far and wide, to a place where darkness could never hide.  
Here, she could spend everyday doing nothing but laugh and play.  
As she stared in wonder, she could only think of one: her mother.  
The angel heard what her heart said, and the good little sheep woke up home in bed."

As he sang, he felt Judy's heartbeat slow and her breathing calm down. She practically melted in his arms. It was surprising how absolutely serene she suddenly was. In that moment, Nick felt jealous. He wanted to know that warmth of a mother's lullaby. To have these meaningless words fill him with love, tuck him in and kiss him good night.

"I told my mom how much the ending of 'Sheep Grove' bothered me when I was older," he explained. "She added that little part herself. Much happier."

He waited for Judy to say something, but somehow the little wonder cop had fallen asleep.

With a quiet laugh, Nick carried her into the building to her tiny apartment while humming the tune to keep her comatose. He found her key naively left under the welcome mat. Gently tucking her into bed, he arranged her thousands of plush animals around her and made sure to get a few embarrassing photos.

He took a moment to appreciate his handiwork, but couldn't help feeling the job wasn't done. " _Let's see… Lullaby, carry to bed, tuck me in. Then mom would..._ " His eyes shot open and a mischievous grin grew on his face. Checking that Judy was still dormant, he gave her a quick peck on her forehead. He snickered and tip-toed away.

"Nick…"

Every hair on his body stood on end. He shakily peered over his shoulder, trying not to look like the most guilty fox in Zootopia. Judy's sleepy eyes were just barely cracked open at him. "You've got a beautiful voice."

"So I've been told," he rubbed the back of his head in relief. "Don't you dare start calling me mommy," he teased.

"I won't," she hugged one of her plushes and closed her eyes, "but your kissing leaves a lot to be desired."

Nick nearly dropped the car keys as he ran out of Judy's room.

END PART 2

 _When you sit and think about the hundreds of different ways music touches our lives, you begin to wonder how empty the world would be without it._


	3. Pre-Chorus

_To all the mothers in the world who sang us to sleep, held us deep and let us weep,  
Know we will _always _love you._

 _Here we go…_

* * *

"I DON'T GET IT"  
Part 3

By: I Write Big

 _How do I hold this?_ Nick wondered.

The brisk night air brought a pleasant shiver down his spine. The fox had always preferred the chilling breezes of the night. Like most cities, Zootopia never slept. The streets were packed with mammals 24 hours. The only moments of peace someone could get were in the privacy of their homes or in the various parks scattered around. While Nick wasn't the biggest fan of nature walks, his academy training had instilled in him a workout ethic. On lazy paperwork filled days, which were most, he got his exercise with a late night run.

This time, though, he had hit a problem. _How exactly does one run with a phone and listen to music at the same time?_

Nick tried putting the device in his sweatpants, but the short headphones just barely reached his ears and could easily pop out. He zipped up his hoody and put the phone in there, but it threatened to slide out of the smooth pockets.

 _Guess I should've gotten one of those armband sleeves. Paws it is._

Taking a firm hold of his phone, he started his jog and pressed play.

The opening chords of some unknown single echoed in his head. He could tell from the bouncing bass and borderline islander rhythm that he was supposed to be pumped and ready to move. He was anything but. He waited until he was a quarter way around the lake before he gave up.

He skipped to the next 'motivational' song he had randomly downloaded and was surrounded by an orchestra with grand sweeping horns announcing a brand new day filled with hope and wonder. This could easily fit in a children's fantasy film and Nick wondered if he had accidentally stumbled upon an illegal music sharing site. The concept never made sense to him. Why did mammals feel like they had the right to steal music that the composers put a price on when there was _legally_ _free_ music on the internet? Maybe it had to do with name recognition; a sense of accomplishment that comes with outwitting a mammal supposedly better than you. Nick remembered getting an ego trip when he scammed a noticeably clever bunny. That's the only reason that made sense in his head, because to Nick it all sounded the same.

Ten feet later, Nick realized he was enjoying the chirps of crickets and looked at his phone. The second song had ended some time ago without him noticing. Fiddling with the settings, he switched to auto-play and resumed his trek.

Nick couldn't even pay attention enough to think about the songs anymore; his unconscious was slowly drowning out the notes. He stopped and had the strongest urge to scream. He tore out his earbuds and leaned his head on a tree.

"There was something last time. I felt something! _"_ he told the oak. The events in the police cruiser played in his head. The warmth was from Judy's body, the calm was from her heartbeat. But there was also something else. Even though it was fleeting, he had felt a _sting_. Envy. Never before had he wanted to hear what other mammals practically worshipped. To hum a song and know it was his favorite. To know the words and care what they meant.

He put his back to the tree and sat down. He disconnected the earbuds and swiped down to 'Sheep's Grove.' Nick tried to count the many different renditions he had. _Must be over a hundred here_. It had become almost like a ritual, almost every hour he forced himself to listen to one version in a vain attempt to recreate that moment.

'Acappella' one said. Nick hit it without a second thought. A soothing, maternal voice sang the verses already burned into his brain. Images of his mom's face rushed to the forefront of his mind and he knew he should be at least smiling… but the song was just _so distracting._

He pressed stop and leaned into the memory. Home cooked meals, being held in the morning, afternoon and night. He felt sentimental… Wistful... Happy!

He pressed play and it was like he had shut his brain off.

He only felt the cold air.

There was nothing.

Not even jealousy.

And here he had come full circle, both in life and around the lake. This wasn't the first time he swore he felt something from a melody only to never feel it again. Won't be the last. He'll soon forget that sting like all the rest and return to his normal life, perfectly content without music. He stood up, his thumb hovering over the stop button, when the photo of the fluffball who had stained his uniform appeared. With an honest chuckle, he answered.

"What are you doing here, Nick?"

"Huh, most mammals wait for the receiver to say 'hello,' but if we're gonna be existential… I always believed I am here because I was the gods gift to the world."

"I mean, Mister Center of the Universe, what are you doing outside my apartment?"

"Outside your what?" Nick twisted around to the lit buildings on the park edge. One of them he instantly recognized as the Grand Pangolin Apartments. A short silhouetted figure could be seen in one of the windows. It had recognizably tall ears and was waving as hard as it could. "Huh… How did I not notice that?" Nick questioned as he walked towards the building.

"Oh good, so you're not stalking me."

"The government already pays me to stalk you during work hours. What I do with my own time is completely separate. I could climb a mountain, read a book, or have a little night run."

"Aha, that's why you're here! You're a night jogger."

"Well, Detective Carrots, I had to get the smell of bunny off me somehow," Nick shrugged.

He saw her silhouette slouch. "Sorry about that. I was a complete mess, wasn't I?"

"You're better now, though, right?"

"Thanks to your dulcet tones. Seriously, did you do choir in school?"

Nick remembered the endless nights he had spent practicing his octaves in his room, alone. It made him shudder, "No, I, uh, taught myself."

"You...? Why would you-"

He shook away the picture in his head, "You know, you could always return the favor..." he teased.

Judy's shadow went rigid, her ears shot straight up. Nick held back a laugh as the image reminded him of a certain Saturday morning cartoon. She then hunkered down and her scared voice come out of the phone in whispers. "Here? Now?"

"I sang out on the street with a crying, grown police-bunny on my shoulder. You have the benefit of a discreet apartment," Nick reasoned.

"This place is NOT discreet! My neighbors can hear everything!" she shrank lower, her whisper getting desperate.

"Then we'd be even," Nick put on his foxiest smile, even though she had no way of seeing his face. He watched with glee as her shadow squirmed back and forth. The whole time, he heard her let out embarrassed half mumbles and stutters. Finally, she dropped from view and the line went silent. Nick made sure he was still connected before deciding he had enough revenge. "Relax, you don't have to-"

"Away, away, in the deep dark wood, trembled a sheep who was always good…"

Nick quickly set his call to speakerphone and started recording. He grinned widely as he got the show of a lifetime. Her pitch was off. Her voice cracked on the high notes. It was, without a doubt, the _worst_ thing Nick had ever heard. And he'd lived through Finnick singing opera in the shower.

"...The angel heard what her heart said, and the good little sheep woke up home in beeeeeed," she held the final syllable in, what some might painfully call, a yodel. Nick silently laughed harder than he'd ever silently laughed before.

"Are we good?" she asked.

"Oh yeah," Nick stopped the recording. "Thanks for that, but you didn't have to sing it all. I'm not that cruel."

"Kinda had to," she cleared her throat, "I kept trying to remember the new words after you left. The whole thing got stuck in my head. Now, it's _finally_ gone!... And all it took was me singing it on the phone to my partner and my EAVESDROPPING NEIGHBORS!" In response to her shout, the light of the window next door went out. "So, yeah, this has been fun." Her voice turned playful, "Does this mean I get to tuck you in and kiss you goodnight, Nick?"

He stared blankly at the window.

Judy shamelessly continued, "I was thinking somewhere sweet, like your cheek. Or maybe I should plant one on your nose."

He wasn't moving.

"...Nick?"

"You can get a song stuck in your head?"

"You've never...?" she ripped open her window and shouted down at him, "You lucky fox!"

END PART 3

* * *

 _I hope this answers any questions on what Nick is going through._


	4. Chorus

_I wanna ask you something… Do you remember the first time you touched an instrument?_

* * *

"I DON'T GET IT"  
Part 4

By: I Write Big

"I don't need that," Nick shook his head.

Finnick struggled to push the long heavy black case to the back of the red van. "Yeah, well, I ain't your personal storage."

"Let me rephrase, I don't _want_ that."

"Fine, then what should we do with it?"

Nick stared indifferently at the once polished box, now beaten and scratched and covered in dust. A peeling strip of silver duck tape clung to the front, barely holding together one of the broken latches. His name could still be made out in the faded marker. He wondered why in the twenty odd years since he found the instrument he had never even considered selling it until that moment.

"Pawn it," Nick shrugged.

Finnick did a double take, "Seriously?"

"Why, you got a better idea?"

"I just thought that… Forget it, let's dump this scrap. Should be worth a few bucks," the fennec fox left the back doors open for Nick and disappeared into the clutter. Nick raised an eyebrow at his former partner. He recognized that hesitation in Finnick's voice. The guy had something to say, but it'd be awhile before Nick would hear what that something was.

"Yo!" Finnick stuck his head out the driver window. "You having a stroke back there? Get in."

* * *

"Suspension's shot. Sure you don't wanna bring that baby up front?" Finnick glanced at the case in his cracked rear-view as they turned a corner.

Nick gave Finnick a look then reached for the bulky thing. "Just keep your eyes on the road, citiz-HAN!" Nick's sly remark was ruined by a sudden pothole.

"Bahahaha, hang on tight, officer."

The case rattled and fell over with a heavy metallic thud before Nick could get a hold of it. Not wanting any potential buyers to complain, Nick hefted the container into the front seat and secured it between his legs. His fingers perfectly fit the rough handle.

"Remember what I said the first time I saw that horn in your closet?" Finnick asked with an oddly warm smile. "'The only mammals who make more playing music in the streets...'"

"'...Are _blind_ mammals playing music in the streets.'" Nick snickered at the memory, "A pair of sunglasses and I was the Sightless Saxophonist of Sahara Square."

"Those suckers didn't know what hit 'em. Why did we ever stop doing that hustle?"

"I told you, putting myself out in the open like that every day would've gotten the wrong attention," Nick avoided Finnick's inquiring gaze.

"Yeah," Finnick accepted the answer, "still seemed like a shame to waste that talent." Nick wasn't too keen on calling the act of blowing into the short end of a pipe and pressing a pattern of buttons a talent, but he could understand Finnick's frustration. They had made double that week. A week, though, was all Nick could stomach.

* * *

"Brass is starting to flake..." the squeaky voice of the shop owner echoed from inside the instrument. "Where'd you get this?"

"It's my old marching band sax," Nick lied, his attention more focused on the gold watches behind the caged display.

"Hmm... pads are still in good condition…" The graying chipmunk popped his head out of the bell, "I'll give you a hundred."

Nick opened his mouth to agree when Finnick climbed onto the counter. "Hundred?! What is this, a business or a scam? Parents shell out _five_ _times_ as much for a training sax! Who do you think you are?"

Nick sighed, and surfed his phone. It was rare for Finnick to have the opportunity to be intimidating. Nick wasn't going to stop him.

"Hey, pal, I can't really do much with a saxophone. Mammals come in here looking for cheap guitars or drum sticks. Nobody comes into a pawn shop looking for a good horn." The chipmunk turned to the case, "And just look at this thing. I've got fifty-year-old used suitcases in the back that are in less pieces. I ain't the one trying to pull a scam here, _tiny_."

"Tiny?" Finnick rolled up his sleeves, "Why you little..." and accidentally walked right into the cage that separated them.

Not amused, the chipmunk pushed the instrument through the hole and shut the security blinds that were labeled 'Sorry, We're Closed!'

"Come out here and call me tiny to my face!"

Nick rolled his eyes and packed up the saxophone.

* * *

"The nerve of that guy. Calling _me_ tiny? I could squish him with my toe," Finnick fumed as they waited for the cashier to come back.

"Sure you could."

"What are we even doing at one of these warehouse music shops, Nick?"

"I'm not driving around all day looking for the best price. We're selling this here, even if we can only get a hundred."

"A hundred is trash. That thing's better off as a coffee table."

"Sir?" the young kangaroo in the 'Guitar Central' t-shirt called to Nick. "We put the serial number through the system and we're willing to buy your saxophone for four-hundred and fifty bucks."

"Really?" Nick was taken aback.

Finnick was silent.

The kangaroo looked over her shoulder and spoke softly, "But to be honest, that's the highest the store allows us to go. Your saxophone is actually worth much more than that, sir." She slid a small scrap of paper to them. The foxes opened it and froze like deer pedestrians in a crosswalk.

"Nick, could I talk to you for a second?"

The taller fox was too busy gaping at the kangaroo in confusion. "Why? Why is that..." he pointed at the aged piece of metal, "worth more than my apartment?"

"Manufacturers were forced by new regulations to change the brass alloy they used a couple decades ago. The music produced was never as good," she explained. "Saxes like these are one of a kind. And this one has hardly been played, it's almost brand new. You'll find collectors online who will pay quadruple that for yours."

"Q-q-quadruple?" Nick swooned and was overcome with an urge to kiss the angelic marsupial. As dollar shaped stars danced across his vision, he felt himself being forcibly dragged towards the exit.

"Thanks for the quote, miss. Give us a second, will ya?" Finnick shoved Nick out the door.

Nick tried to clear his head, "Okay, Finnick, I think it's only fair you get a Finder's Fee. 20% sound fair?"

The fennec groaned with his back to Nick, "I'm just gonna come out and say this." He turned and squared his shoulders. He looked at Nick with a seriousness that would not be questioned. "You and I, Nick, we're not gonna see each other much anymore. Sure, we'll get a drink together when we feel like it, but now that you're a cop, there ain't gonna be no more hustles." Finnick half covered his face and muttered, "And as pathetic as it sounds, they were the best part of the last seventeen years of my life."

Nick was touched. While it was rare for Finnick to rage out, it was even rarer for him to be open like this. He put a paw on the short guy's shoulder, "Even the baby elephant onesie?"

"I will deny that ever happened until the day I die," Finnick growled, "but yeah, even the baby elephant onesie."

"Okay, buddy… 25%."

"Dammit, Nick, I don't want you to sell the sax!"

"Wha-What?! Did you not see all those zeros? That is _mansion_ money!"

"I don't care!"

Nick couldn't believe what he was hearing. 'Straight to business, do whatever it takes, every penny counts' Finnick _didn't care_ about a free fortune?

Finnick tried to calm down, "To you that may just be a saxophone, but to me it's the closest we ever got to going straight. You could play, Nick, you really could. I never told you. You were so good, I actually looked into getting you gigs." Nick didn't know how to react to that. "I had this crazy idea that I could... I don't know, be your manager or something. That we could be legit and still live a decent life. Then not even two weeks later, you were done with the whole thing. Yeah, I was pissed, but I kept my mouth shut." Nick stiffened as he felt stonewall Finnick tremble. "I can't play that big thing, shit, I don't know what I'd do with it. Still... I want something to remember that moment… when I believed I could be _better_."

Nick's paw was still on his shoulder. If this were Judy, she'd be crying already and in need of a hug. With Finnick, though...

Finnick doesn't cry.

Finnick has _solitary_ moments, which gave Nick time to think. Finnick had a point. Since starting his new 9 to 5 life, Nick barely had any time to spare for anyone else. He had actually planned to sleep through his entire day off before he got Finnick's text. This was the first time they had seen each other in months... but he knew he couldn't turn back now. This was his opportunity to go straight... just like that sax used to be for Finnick.

Finnick laughed that weird choking laugh that told Nick he was done, "Look at me, all this over some stupid hunk of junk."

Nick watched his friend, "Hold on, I, uh, I think I have an idea."

* * *

Nick replayed the video. Some kid must've recorded him back when smartphones were new and uploaded it in the early days of ZooTube. The quality was terrible, but Nick could just make out Finnick in the background. He thought he saw a proud smile on the guy's pixely face.

"So cool," he heard the videographer whisper off screen. The video title described Nick as 'Blind Saxy Fox From Heaven!1!'

He sounded just as he recalled. Loud and repetitive.

"Who's that?" Judy piped in from the next cubicle. "They're good, since I know you can't tell."

"Some street performer," he closed the window and headed out.

"Hold on, I'm almost done. Let's get Bugga Burger."

"Sorry, Carrots. Busy."

"With what?"

Nick leveled a serious stare at the bunny, "From now on, I'm giving Finnick music lessons every Wednesday."

Judy returned the stare for a couple seconds, "Hahahahaha! No seriously, where are you going?"

Without a word, the fox picked up his old saxophone case and left.

END PART 4

 _Don't you hate it when you have a knack for something you don't care about?_


	5. Bridge

_How about the first time you danced?_

* * *

"I DON'T GET IT _"  
_ Part 5

By: I Write Big

"You don't know how to dance?" Nick quirked his head towards her.

Judy pushed her desk into the far corner of her apartment. This gave them, at most, 2 extra square feet to work with in the 8 ¼ square foot room. "I was one of those work-work-work girls. Only a few friends, zero boyfriends. Whenever my parents forced me to go to a school dance, I would use the night to report to the chaperones if I found students with any... _contraband_."

"You were a snitch?"

"I was and am a law-abiding bunny!" she huffed.

He smirked, "Who can't cut a rug."

"No time like the present, right? Now, that I got my dream job and since I need a plus one for little Judy's christening party next month, I figured… Why not? We can learn together." She pulled out her phone and started scrolling through the options. "I downloaded a couple step-by-step guides. We can start at Beginner and work our way up to—"

The fox snatched her phone out of her paws and made a selection. He put the phone on the desk and leveled a look at her.

"Welcome to Master Level," greeted the accented, recorded voice of Gazelle.

"Nick, what are you—"

"Shh!"

"Now, that you've gotten a handle on the essentials, try out your new moves to this beat!" at the popstar's words, a generic hip-hop song played. Nick calmly scrubbed through the music, making it sound like chipmunk screeches. He let go of the phone and the melody came to an end. "Congrats, you're a star!" Gazelle cheered, "Get out there and show the world what you can do."

A more official voice, that was clearly sped up, spoke, "Gazelle and the Gazelle trademark are all owned by the—" Nick pressed stop.

"Please don't tell me you paid for that scam." Judy's unbelieving eyes were riveted on the device. That was all the answer he needed. "Don't take it too hard, you're not the first to fall for this."

"The Master Level costs _thirty bucks_ and it's only _one song_?!" she stomped her foot.

 _"Ouch, that's inflation for you_." Nick relished the fact that despite knowing Judy for so long, she still had a lot to learn about hustles. "Exactly. That's dancing. Moving your body to a rhythm. Any mammal can teach that."

She pinched her nose and took a deep breath, "...You're right, we can learn on our own." Judy snagged Nick's paws and gingerly placed them on her hips.

The sudden contact seemed to cut off any trace of coherent thought Nick had. He could only look down at the crazy bunny with confusion as she stretched her short arms, awkwardly reaching for his neck. "Cheese and crackers, you're tall. Guess this'll have to do." Her paws settled on his chest.

Nick found he couldn't look away. His paws were big. Nearly as big as Judy's head. He could feel his fingers were interlaced on the small of her back. _"_ _She's like an… itsy-bitsy bunny doll…"_

The music started. It was a gentle piece with soft, drifting horns accompanied by a trickling piano. Nick's brain immediately shut down.

"Slow dance," Judy tucked the phone in her breast pocket, "I know actually dancing to music is _Master Level_ but I think this shouldn't be too hard." The bunny started rocking side to side, keeping her attention laser focused on her foot placement. Nick mimicked her. His movements felt wooden, unlike hers. She was counting her steps in a murmur.

He inwardly sighed. Just like the concert, he searched for something to distract himself. _"Seriously, what is with all the plushies?_ _Did she bring them here herself or does her family keep sending more every month?"_ Counting the different species sounded like a good idea to pass the time. _"Seven goats, twelve bears, and nineteen bunnies, one for every hundred she's related to."_ Nick grinned at his own joke until a flash of purple caught his eye. Hidden between two of the bunnies was a fluffy head with two long ears. Their tips were a jet black and the—

"You stopped again," Judy's fingers prodded his belly a couple times.

He turned back to his partner and sheepishly cleared his throat, "Never been much of a dancer myself."

"Is the music distracting?"

Nick blinked.

She produced her headphones and attached them to her phone. "There," she stuck a bud in her left ear and pressed play. "Now, we can both dance." She started gliding to a song he could no longer hear.

Nick didn't know what to do, "Uh… Carrots, you can't dance without music."

"Try."

Countless nights had been dedicated to studying the basics of every dance known to mammalkind, so he could at least pretend. There had always been a rhythm, it had always meant nothing to Nick, but he had used that beat as a guide. Here in this shoebox of an apartment… he had to go it alone.

He couldn't move.

"I…" his paws dropped to his sides. When she looked up at him, he forced a smile, "Kinda weird when it's quiet."

Her violets bored into his emeralds with an unreadable stare as she muted her phone. She hopped into the air and latched onto his neck. Nick's arms instinctively wrapped under her legs and held her up. They were nose to nose.

"Fluff, what are you—"

"Close your eyes."

"...Huh?"

"Trust me."

"Are you going to do something strange?"

"Yes."

Nick's brow furrowed at her blunt answers, but complied. In darkness he waited for the bunny's next hair-brained scheme. She started kneading his shoulders. Tension he didn't know was there fled his body.

"Imagine the concert."

He didn't have to ask which one. He was back in the crowd, Judy at his side.

"Who's on stage?"

His sights focused on Gazelle.

"Do you see her dancing?"

Technically, everyone was dancing.

"What is she dancing to?"

He looked around and saw the joy on everyone's faces as they moved. Their bodies swayed in a dream-like manner. Slow and graceful, as if enchanted by some unseen magic. But they moved to absolutely…

"Nothing." The kneading stopped. Risking a quick end to whatever Judy had planned, Nick opened his eyes. From the look she gave him, he could tell this wasn't what she expected. "Wrong answer?"

"...I… you… nothing?"

He let out a groan and lowered her to the ground, "You can't force what isn't there. Learned that one the hard way, a long time ago." Judy's unmoving gaze tried to penetrate the floorboards, her tall ears flat against her head. He could tell her mind was running hundreds of miles an hour, trying to find another way.

 _"She really cares…"_ Nick thought to himself.

He placed her paws on his chest and tilted her chin up, "I don't dance for _fun_." He slid his paws back on her hips and laced his fingers behind her, "But I can dance for _you_."

This time he led. This time the steps felt smooth. This time there weren't any distractions. He closed his eyes and focused on the softness between his palms, the way her slight weight shifted with his own was hypnotic. The duet was majestic. Every couple steps, though, they would make a mistake. A stubbed toe here. A minor stumble there. Nick adored every second.

Soon, his legs grew tired and Nick slowed to a stop. He opened his eyes to find Judy shaken, out of breath, and absolutely amazed.

"For me?"

* * *

Nick was calling the zuber when he heard Judy. "You sing… You play sax…" He turned back to the apartment to find the bunny inspecting him from the door. "And you dance like you've done it all your life…For a fox who doesn't get music, you could've fooled me."

"That's the point," he nodded. She gave him that odd look again. He avoided her eyes and leaned against the doorframe. "I taught myself how to do these things to..."

"Hustles, right?" she finished.

He glanced towards the plushies, "To fit in." She followed his stare to the various animals hidden amongst each other. "No one has ever had an ideal high school life. Everybody has their click and tries to be part of a group. Music, though… I saw bullies and nerds, jocks and losers, preds and prey, become friends over a song. I had to give it a shot. When you're a teenager, not fitting in is hell."

She looked back at him, astonishment written across her face.

"Fitting in is nice," she said. "Makes you feel like you belong. Like you're protected." She jumped onto her bed and pulled out two plushies. She held one behind her back and made her way to the door. "However, if all you do is fit in, you're not gonna go anywhere." She held up the first plushie. A purple eyed bunny in a little police uniform. Nick took the plush Judy in his paws with a smile. "Mom made this for me after I moved back to the city. You think I would've come to Zootopia and become a cop in the first place if I only cared about fitting in?"

"'Course not, but you're one in a million."

"So are you. I don't mean that in the sappy way parents tell their kits." She pulled out the second item, a plushie fox with green marble eyes and also in a police uniform. Nick let out a half-laugh. He opened his mouth to comment on the stitch-work when Judy's paw tenderly touched his wrist. "You helped me save this city, changed the way I see the world. Without you, without _the_ Nicholas Piberious Wilde and all his snarky attitude and dodgy hustles, and, yes, you're taste in music… A simple country bunny wouldn't be here right now."

Nick ran the soft svelte through his fingers as he considered the bunny in front of him.

"Don't ever fit in, Nick."

END PART 5

 _Tell me about your first dance. I'd love to hear about it. I just might tell you about mine.  
_

 _In the meantime, I recently added all my stories to Wattpad under the same name "I Write Big". If you're on that site, I would appreciate a follow. Plus you can check out all my other fics. I'm gonna start delving into non-fanfic fics there. Maybe you'll find something you like._


	6. Elision

_Into the storm…_

* * *

"I DON'T GET IT"  
Part 6

By: I Write Big

"I wasn't a con-artist," Nick stated, keeping a careful watch over the crowd.

Judy scrunched her nose at him, "'Scuse me? The first time we met, you were scamming a jumbo pop."

"That was _not_ a con. I, nor Finn, have _never_ conned any mammal, ever. Frankly, con-artists offend me," he watched her arrogance change to confusion. "Do you not know the difference between a con and a hustle?" Nick smirked.

Judy's mouth flapped several times, searching for an answer.

"Call for Hopps. Come in, Hopps," her radio scratched.

"Go for Hopps."

"Package is being brought 'round back. We got south side. Take north."

"Roger north. Hopps out." She eyed her partner, "This conversation isn't over." He only offered a shrug before following her through the outer the edges of the thousands of mammals from all walks of life. Predator and prey, from the tiniest of shrews to the tallest of giraffes, had come to celebrate.

"Not many bunnies," he muttered.

"How are you enjoying your first Roachella?" Judy asked, trying to ignore a group of loudly intoxicated bovine. This level of public inebriation would usually call for action, but the officers were under orders to let anything less than physical violence slide.

"Why again do they call it that?" Nick raised an eyebrow at an impressive rock statue being carved by a tiny field mouse.

"Named after the valley."

"That's it? Huh… Not as deep of an answer as I was hoping."

"Deep?"

He waved his paws towards the endless sandy plains ahead of them, "Maybe some coked up teen ran out into the desert and wound up here where he was saved by the music goddess Roachella. Ever since that day, her name has been honored once a year."

"Or maybe it's just an excuse for several weekends of drugs, 'getting to know each other better' and loud music," Judy said.

"That too."

Speaking of loud music, the band currently on the main stage seemed to have somehow doubled their decibel output. _"They trying to break the sound barrier?"_ Nick wondered. The audience was mostly made of young adults and teens pretending to be young adults. Every single one of them having the time of their lives. Even Judy, he noticed, had a little skip in her step and occasionally bobbed her head to the beat. Despite being on duty, she was clearly enjoying herself. Which meant he had to be vigilant for both of them.

"On route," announced her radio as they arrived backstage.

A stretch limo came into view and pulled up near them. He felt Judy poke his arm, "Can you handle seeing those _hips_ again?"

"Carrots, that was nerves talking."

"Yeah, but this time they're up close," she whispered maniacally.

"Let it go."

The camel driver opened the back door and several muscular tigers climbed out, their sharp eyes scanned in every direction. Content with the security, the tigers used their bodies to form walls leading to the backstage stairs and waited.

Then _she_ appeared.

He only caught glimpses between the predators. Even though her horns just barely reached her backup dancers' shoulders, she still towered over him. She arrived at the stairs and stopped, allowing Nick to finally get a clear view. _"Don't look at her hips. Don't look at her hips. Don't look at her hips."_ Gazelle turned ever so slightly to the side and looked down at the two officers. A compassionate smile spread across her lips and she went backstage.

"She definitely has a presence," Nick commented.

Judy didn't answer.

"Carrots?"

"Gazelle smiled at me..." the bunny's eyes shined bright. She bounced between her feet like a kit on Christmas morning.

Nick smirked, "Good for you." He took her shoulders and turned her away.

"Gazelle smiled at you too!" she gasped. "She must've recognized us from the Nighthowler Incident!" She grabbed her ears, "Oh no, what if she remembered me from the news conference?!"

Nick thought it was about time they took their lunch break.

"Hold on," called a deep voice. One of the tigers came back down the stairs. "Gazelle wants to see you both before the show."

Judy stared at the feline, unable to comprehend the words, "Wh-wh-wh-huh? Uh..."

"Sorry, big guy, love to but we're on duty." He moved to drag the bunny statue back to their post, when she sprang to life.

"Cover me," Judy shoved the radio into his paws and ran up the stairs.

"Carrots!" She was already gone.

The tiger gave him an expectant look.

"I appreciate the thought," Nick turned on his heels. A couple seconds later, he was back on the shores of the loudest ocean of bodies in the world. He took his post at the edge and sighed. The last time he had been starstruck was when he was high-fived by his favorite cartoon character Sunny the Tiger at the Zootopia faire. Back then, though, he was too young to realize it was actually a hippo in a costume.

Still, if Gazelle had been a movie star or something, Nick imagined he would've freaked out like Judy and jumped at the chance to meet her in private. _"Hope Carrots isn't disappointed. Celebrities are only as special as you make them and Gazelle is no different…_ _Even if she does have nice hips."_

"Hey, man!" a rusty voiced elk waved to him. "Was that really Gazelle back there?"

Nick didn't remember being told to keep the celebrity's appearance secret. "Yeah, she'll be on next."

The fan squealed and disappeared into the masses. Nick noticed several other mammals had heard him and started gabbing to everyone around them. Like wildfire, the name Gazelle spread. A roar of approval burst, drowning out the current band. Over the music came stilted but clear chanting.

 _I won't give up! No I won't give in!  
_ _Till I reach the end!_

The entire Roachella population was singing lyrics, in unison.

Nick blankly stared.

"Call for Hopps! Come in, Hopps!" screeched a frantic voice on the radio.

The crowd pushed forward. Nick took a step back and fumbled with the receiver, "G-go for Wilde."

"Wilde? Where's Hopps? Nevermind!" Private security rushed past him and formed a barrier between the audience and the stage. "The crowd is getting antsy! Secure the front!"

"Roger! Wilde out!" Nick ran to the nearest hole in the security line.

The band behind him had stopped. "Clear the stage!" someone shouted. "Move back! Back up!" ordered another on a megaphone. The crowd got even louder.

 _I'll keep on making those new mistakes!  
_ _I'll keep on making them every day!_

The mammals in front suddenly realized the danger they were in as an elephant toppled off his feet and nearly crushed several deer. The waist-high metal fence ahead of them collapsed and everyone scrambled straight at the security line, whether for safety or to be closer to Gazelle, it didn't matter.

 _Oh! Oh! Try everything!_

"Cheese and crackers!" Nick whipped his head and spotted Judy running around the corner. At the same time, a shocked Gazelle ran on stage before anyone could stop her.

The horde pressed harder in the presence of their star. Nick forcibly dug his legs into the dirt. Judy came to his side in a heartbeat. Crazy cheers and applause erupted.

A pit sank in Nick's stomach as he swore he also heard distant screams of terror and pain.

* * *

"Eleven mammals, including one ZPD officer, were sent to the emergency room this afternoon after they were crushed by a crowd of over enthused Gazelle fans. For more on this story—"

Judy narrowed her eyes at the hallway TV and shut the hospital room door, leaving only the sound of Nick's fingers tapping on his phone. "Not so bad, huh?" Judy sighed, "Nothing broken, only a couple of bruises." He could feel her gaze locked on the bandages wrapped around his torso.

"Mmm," he agreed. Despite the Doctor's prognosis, Nick found breathing and talking a tad difficult.

"You, uh… who are you texting?"

"Nobody," he rasped and showed his phone. The zootunes app displayed the long list of generic songs.

Judy blinked at the bedridden fox, "You have music?"

"They're... leftovers from a—"

Judy hopped onto the sheets, excited like she had discovered buried treasure, "You found someone you like? Who? Tell me!"

His glare stopped her in her tracks. With a swipe, a 'Are You Sure You Want to Delete?' box popped up and he hit 'yes.' Judy's eyes widened at his actions. He clarified, "There isn't a 'delete all' button, so I have to get rid of each song one at a time."

The explanation washed over Judy. She slowly sat down at his feet with disappointment, "Sorry, I guess I keep expecting you to surprise me one day with the… one thing that speaks to you."

He kept deleting, "Speaks to me... Is that what mammals like about music?"

An uncomfortable silence set in.

"...Do you hate music?"

The 'yes' button waited for his hovering finger.

"I mean, look what it did to you. Your kithood was spent singing gibberish, dancing like an idiot and playing something you didn't care about. Pretending to be a mammal you weren't, all so you could have friends," a hint of disgust crept into her voice. "What do you get out of it now? What's the point?"

'Yes' or 'No'... He pressed the home button and placed the phone down between them. He held his finger on the zootunes app.

"Hustles are mutual," he wheezed. "Yeah, you're getting less than what you paid for but you're getting _something._ There's still a prize to be won at every carnival game and even if you don't get that prize, you still had fun."

All the app buttons started wiggling and little black and white X's appeared in their corners.

"Con-artists give you nothing."

Poof... zootunes vanished in an animated gif of smoke.

"I don't hate music," he finally looked at the bunny. She had the pained expression of someone who had failed a friend. "Music's never given me a single reason to like it."

END PART 6

* * *

 _And once the storm is over, you won't remember how you made it through… you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what this storm is all about._


	7. Solo

_You're almost there…_

"I DON'T GET IT"  
Part 7

By: I Write Big

"I said, I can't do this anymore," Nick grumbled through the pain.

Finnick gave him a once over, "What happened, you crack a rib in that dog pile or something?"

Nick had half a mind to turn around and leave. He had said what he came to say, but there was still the issue of the five pound saxophone hanging from his paws. He dropped the case by the back tire. "My ribs are fine. These lessons, Finnick… I can't."

The little guy waited for him to continue, but Nick had nothing.

"...So just like before, huh? No good reason, out of nowhere, you're done?" he fixed him with a blank stare.

"Yeah."

Finnick again fruitlessly waited for him to continue before kicking the instrument to Nick. "Already told you, I ain't your personal storage," he nodded to the other side of the van. "Dumpster's over there."

Nick returned the stare for a couple seconds, before picking up the sax. He stomped down the alley and tossed the thing into the trash with a heavy clang. He didn't feel any lighter.

* * *

 _"Just knock already,"_ Nick told his trembling fist. No matter how hard he glared, though, it wouldn't listen.

Nick unfurled his paw and instead ran his fingers over the unvarnished wood. The hot stage lights boiled above him like miniature suns. He kept searching through the splinters until his claws slipped into a set of marks two feet above the stained floor. Though much smaller than his current claws, he still recognized the feel of his old sign. He pushed away the memories, not quite ready to revisit those times. The knob turned and the hinges creaked open.

"Do Re Mi Fa So La—" she saw him and dropped the last note.

"Hi, mom."

The vixen was a head shorter than him. The vibrant red hair coloring hid her true age, but Nick recognized the need to remain young in her line of work. The spangled headdress was a bit much though.

"Nicholas," she gently pushed past him, throwing on a shawl. "What are you doing here? It's not my birthday."

He diligently followed her, ignoring the cold, trite tone, "Oh, the bandages? Thanks for asking but don't worry. A lot worse than they look, trust me." She peeked over her shoulder. Her eyes widened slightly at his injuries before she turned away.

"Glad to see you haven't lost that snark of yours."

"Learned from the best," a wave of applause cut him short as they arrived at edge of the stage. The latest act, a colorfully dressed zebra, was bowing and blowing kisses to the smoke obscured crowd. "You on next?"

"...Yes," she admitted with a tinge of anger, "and I would've appreciated you waiting until after for whatever this is."

"Come on, mom," he teased as she touched up her foundation. "We both know how good you are with separating career and family life."

She snapped her compact shut and looked him in the eye for the first time, "Are you dying?"

"What?" he frowned.

"'Cause unless you're dying, I don't want to have this conversation." The teasing was over. Nick opened his mouth…

"Up next, everymammal, put your paws together for the always lovely Miss Wilde," a cool voice on a microphone announced.

She gave Nick a couple more seconds, then went on stage.

"I told someone."

He saw her steps hesitate and there was a look of genuine shock before she put on a professional face and continued to the piano. _"At least I got her attention..."_

"Thank you all for being here today," her caressing, deep voice fluttered through the theater as she played a few opening chords. "Since I have the time, I think I want show you a little something my son cooked up for his momma. He likes to say I wrote it, but really, we made it together" She shot him a sad smile, "...Back when we talked."

Nick's legs wobbled. He stumbled back as the first notes hit him.

"The angel carried her far and wide, to a place where darkness could never hide…" Her performance was slow... kind... understanding... perfect for dozing off to over a warm glass of milk.

Nick made his way back to the dressing room and shut himself in. The song was dampened through the thick walls to a mere trickle, allowing him to think. Nick admired the organized clutter that marked the dressing room as her own. The little details stood out. An entire jewelry box for her only necklace, the heels she's worn since before Nick could remember. Above them all sat the photo. The image of an idealistic, young kit in a crisp new Junior Ranger Scouts uniform. His vision clouded, forcing him rub the tears away. _"Keep it together_ _."_ It was a couple minutes before could see again, but when he did he spied another photo tucked into the frame of the vanity mirror. A far more recent picture of him wearing a blue uniform with a familiar bunny at his side.

Thunderous cheers shattered the moment as the door flew open.

"Baby, that was stupendous! They were putty in your paws! Chills!" congratulated a chubby molerat while gnawing on a cigar, "Can you do that opener again for the dinner rush?"

"We'll talk later, Larry," she shut the door in his face. A few seconds later, she set the lock. Nick understood the message clearly.

No more jokes. No more wit. One chance. Plain and honest.

He took a seat without a word and waited for her to start. She took off the headdress, threw away the shawl and began scrubbing through the makeup. The transformation was unnerving each time. Her once sleek, combed fur had frizzled to the erratic texture of a shrub. Meanwhile, the now visible snow white fur framing her eyes gave a sense of wisdom and experience; traits most mammals don't want in their singers.

Satisfied, she asked him, "Who?"

He motioned to the picture.

"Her..." She seemed less surprised than he was expecting. "I was planning to come to your graduation, Nicholas, I really was," she apologized, "but they needed me here. Rose had come down with a sudden cold and someone had to fill in. It was an emergency."

"It's fine," he shrugged.

"So..." she prompted his reflection, "How'd she take it?"

"Spent the first month singing, humming and blasting the radio non-stop," he smirked.

His mother let a melodic laugh that filled every corner. He couldn't help but join her. "You see, you had nothing to worry about."

"Guess you were right," he sighed, "at first." For the thousandth time he searched for what went wrong, "Now, she doesn't hum. She doesn't touch the radio. It's like she's doing everything she can to avoid music around me." His paws clenched when the words escaped his mouth. Saying them out loud had cut deeper than any knife. Normally, silence was a welcome escape, but they had become times of dread…

"Isn't that you always wanted, Nicholas? Isn't that what you've been trying to—"

"She's not happy!" he jabbed an accusatory finger in her face. "You sang because you were happy! Singing made you happy!" The stare on his mother's face made him catch his sudden outburst. Nick sheepishly turned away. "I can tell, mom. She isn't happy."

His mother's unflinching demeanor wasn't fazed. "You don't want what happened to us to happen to the two of you," she said. He felt himself nod. "Nicholas, that emotional bunny is rubbing off on you, I swear." She sighed and poured herself a drink. "Singing did and does make me happy. It's what I always wanted to do and why I worked as an overnight janitor here for ten years. You know what _didn't_ make me happy? Flipping burgers, shining shoes and scrubbing other mammal's toilets just to come home late and find you making yourself miserable."

Her words only made him feel shame, "And what was I supposed to do?"

"Talk to me, Nicholas… You wouldn't talk to me. It didn't matter to me how you felt about music. We pushed each other away because I couldn't make time for you and you wouldn't be honest with me." She sat in front of him and made sure he was listening. "The lullaby we wrote… Tell me, did you enjoy that?"

"It made you happy—"

"But were _you_ happy?"

A lump formed in his throat and he tried to think of something else to talk about. A clever turn of phrase. A joke. Anything.

"...I hated every second," he pushed out.

She held him close and whispered, "That's okay. You don't need to like my music or anybody's music." Her arms wrapped him tightly like the softest blanket. Fingers scratched between his ears. A love held back by years of distance and pain. It had been too long. He hugged her back.

"Just talk to her. Let her know, you're not a fragile child."

He let out a choking laugh, "That's it."

"Not even close," she admitted. "But it's how you'll start." She rubbed his head and asked knowingly, "When was the last time you two talked to each other?"

He blinked, "...A week."

"For the love of—" She stood up in a fit. "A week?! What are you doing _here?_ Get your tail moving!" She shoved him towards the door.

"Are you sure?" he grinned. "I mean, I don't mind sticking around, catching up, that sort of stuff."

"Priorities, Nicholas!" He nearly tripped over an impatiently waiting Larry. "I'm not going anywhere."

Nick gave his mom one last smile and headed out.

"Why her?" she called.

He stumbled, confused at her derailing question, "I… I'm not sure?"

She rolled her eyes, "Figures."

* * *

"Last chance," Finnick nudged his side.

Nick didn't say anything. If he did, he was afraid he would run in there and grab it. The garbage truck raised the dumpster high and tilted. For a split second, the case was in clear view, tumbling, his name still legible. It disappeared. Finally, the truck pulled away, carrying the sax back to the dump where Nick first found it. He breathed deeply.

"I don't get it," he heard. Nick flinched. He turned to his friend. Finnick broke his sidelong glance with a shrug and continued, "But I don't need to. I'd like to. It'd sure be nice… But I don't need to get it."

The first laugh sounded more like a huff but soon Nick found himself chuckling harder than he had in months. He felt lighter than air. Like he could fly. It wasn't until he nearly fell over that he regained some control. Nick wiped the tears off his muzzle and said, "You make it sound so easy."

"What are you talking about? Why were you laughing? What is wrong with—" Finnick's confusion quickly morphed into a growl. He shook his fists then dropped them, "Forget it! I don't care!"

Nick punched his shoulder, "Hey... thanks."

"Yeah, yeah," Finnick climbed into his van. "Being truthful here, you were a lousy teacher."

"Why do you think I never charged? Can you drop me off at the corner of 6th and Main? I got a suit to pick up."

"A suit? I thought we could get drinks."

"Tomorrow." He pulled out his phone and dialed Judy, "Tonight, I got a party."

END PART 7

 _I'm happy you made it this far. Hopefully, you've enjoyed yourself. There's only one more part, so... could you stay just a little bit longer?_


	8. Finale

_Okay, no more rehearsals. Time for the show. Remember everything you learned and keep your eyes on the conductor._

 _And a one… and a two… and a one, two, three..._

"I DON'T GET IT"  
Finale

By: I Write Big

"Remain calm…" Nick repeated to himself.

The party was a happy occasion. One that celebrated life and the first steps of parenthood. Judy had attended the baby shower by herself, but insisted on bringing Nick to the after-party of the christening of her goddaughter… who also happened to be the granddaughter of Mr. Big.

Even though the whole skunk rug incident felt like water under the bridge, the fox couldn't help but get a touch of claustrophobia from the gargantuan polar bear guards behind him. Even more intimidating was the four inch mammal in front of him who could order the bears to ice him.

"You look good in a suit, Nicky," commented Mr. Big, his tired voice still full of pride. He took a sip from his glass and snapped his fingers. Koslov, the biggest bear of them all, held out a normal sized beverage for the officer.

"Thank you, sir," he managed and took the drink.

Nick stole a glance at the table that was filled with dozens of Arctic Shrews. Despite their numbers, they barely took up any space and the entire gathering resembled a kit's playset, much like the wedding the two of them were dragged into nearly a year ago. Even more miniscule was the live band playing in the center of everything. _"Swing with a touch of jazzy improv_ ," Nick observed.

"I tell you, Nicky, watching my family grow like this… it does my heart good." He nodded to the other side of the table where Judy was excitedly chatting with Fru Fru, both wore colorful dresses. "We even got ourselves a fox and a bunny now. Who would've thought?"

Nick was moved and a bit relieved, "I'm… honored, sir, that you still think of me as—"

"You did this city and all the mammals in it a great service. I'm willing to look away this time. Cop or not, you're family. Family are the ones you are willing to forgive the most. The one you love is the one you're willing to forgive always," the shrew solemnly nodded to himself. "Enjoy yourself, Nicky." He headed back to the party.

" _That last part was bit odd. Probably had a little too much to drink_ ," Nick thought, sipping from his own cup.

"Can I get some of that?" He turned, surprised to find Judy suddenly there. Koslov handed her a glass and she took her seat next to Nick. He immediately noticed the concern on her face as her attention moved back and forth between him and the band. Nick knew he had messed up. On the ride to the tux rental shop, he was determined to make things right. Judy had been more than happy to meet him there to help him pick out a tie. But as the minutes ticked by, the more his confidence waned. _"How am I gonna do this? Be direct? Subtle?"_ He resigned to wait until the right moment presented itself and had regretted it every second.

He cleared his throat, "How's little Judy?"

"Oh, Nick, she's so precious!" she smiled with sincerity. "She has the pinkest nose!"

"You know, while you were walking here, I just realized something. You're godmother to Mr. Big's granddaughter and he considers me his son. Does that make us godcousins or something?"

"Actually, it would make me your godaunt."

"Oh no, Carrots, you came to a party with your nephew? What will your parents think?!"

The two laughed heartily, the refreshments having loosened their sense of humor. Soon, the chuckles died. They waited in silence for a while before Nick sighed _._ "Carrots… Hopps… I know you were only trying to help me this whole time. I'm sorry I kinda... gave up there."

Her ears folded back, "No, _I'm_ sorry." She looked down into her own glass, "This is who you are and I shouldn't have been pushing you so much. Plus, I should never have left you alone out there. That's not what partners do."

He could see the disgrace building up in her eyes. "C'mon," he rubbed her back with mock annoyance while using his body to block her sad look from prying party-goers, "I forgive you for the news conference, you cry. I tell you about my kithood, you cry. I apologize for resigning my quest of ever finding Nirvana through the magical wonders of music, you cry."

She snorted, "Uh, sorry?"

"What do I have to do to make sure you don't cry anymore?" he left his paw on her shoulder, waiting for her next comeback.

Instead, Judy stared off at nothing with a look of… longing… "Just be happy," she finally whispered.

Nick shook his head. _"This bunny."_

"She gave you something," she continued.

"Hmm?"

"Backstage," she pulled out her phone and stared at it, "She wanted to meet you. Sure, she was happy to see me, but… I could tell." She pulled up an unsent email, addressed to him with an attachment. She smiled with a hint of guilt, "After what you said, I, uh, thought about deleting it. Then I remembered I'm not that kind of jerk." She looked up at him, "You want it?"

"What is it?"

"A nice hello, plus a message I suggested."

"How cryptic," he smiled to himself. "Sure, why not. I'll listen to it tonight."

Judy pressed send and put her phone away. The music then dipped to a slower, tender tone. Happy couples swayed in each other's arms. Fru Fru and her husband were the spotlight of attention with their baby daughter held between them. Nick stood up and held out his paw. "Well?"

Judy's face swiveled back and forth between him and the rest of the unused ballroom. "Um..."

"This is what those weekends of practice were for, isn't it?"

She hesitated but clearly wasn't nervous, "I know you don't want to do this…" His paw remained unbearably empty as he feared she had already made up her mind. Then her arm drifted up and placed her paw in his. Nick finally breathed until he felt two soft mounds roll in his palm.

Earplugs.

Small, discreet, and easy to hide…

He couldn't take his eyes off them. This was her solution. The same one he chose his entire life. To act like nothing's wrong. To never let them see. "Nick..." He blinked. At some point Judy had gotten on her feet and walked him to the dance floor. Being the only guests more than 7 inches tall, they had the entire place to themselves. She was simply standing there, waiting for Nick to put them on, "You don't have to pretend for me, Nick."

He looked at her and saw himself. Alone. Sad. Desperate to understand.

He dropped the plugs and crushed them under his feet.

"Judy," her ears shot straight towards the ceiling at the sound of her name, "What I want more than anything in the world right now is to dance with you." Her uncertainty was replaced with a dumbfounded gape that filled him with pride. "Just you and me. Show me what you got."

Never once looking away, the fox held the bunny close and the two danced.

* * *

" _That was fun,"_ Nick's blurry head concluded. He collapsed on his soft bed and loosened his tie. _"Free food, free booze, what's to hate?"_ Turning on his side, the obtrusive rectangle that was his phone pushed against his thigh. In his stupor, the fox couldn't remember if he had work the next day. It didn't sound like him to get drunk the night before work. He had better check.

Tomorrow was Saturday, thankfully. His fingers moved to lock the screen when he spotted a little red number one on his email. He downloaded the attachment.

"Hello, Nick," started Gazelle's recording. "Your friend Judy told me how very busy you were and that you couldn't come. I wish you had the time… but I understand. I only wanted you to know how happy I am that we live in a Zootopia with heroes like you watching over us. I take your positions in the ZPD as proof that this crazy world can always change for the better as long as you're willing to try." He felt a wry grin creep onto his muzzle. "Before I go, Judy told me you have some new lyrics to an old song. Normally, I wouldn't but she asked so nicely…"

Nick's heart stopped.

"Don't tell my manager," she cleared her throat.

He sat up.

"Away, away, in the deep dark wood, trembled—"

He hit stop, closed the player and tossed the phone aside like it was trash. _"Well… that killed my buzz."_ He dragged a paw across his face before he crawled toward the screen and reached. His sights drifted slightly and he saw another file listed. One he had saved so long ago.

His grin returned. He selected it and Judy's scratchy, off, terrible voice sang.

"Away, away, in the deep dark wood, trembled a sheep who was always good."

"Much better," he smiled and plopped the phone into the arms of the purple eyed plushie at the foot of his bed. The svelte police bunny made an excellent stand in for the real deal. He let the train wreck play all the way through, appreciating the dropped notes and poor tempo. "Should've asked what I was getting," he admitted to the doll. "No wonder you were worried about giving this to me, Carrots… Maybe I could regift it to Clawhauser—"

 _ **Away, away, in the deep dark wood, trembled a sheep who was always good,** J_udy's voice sang.

Nick frowned, he didn't remember putting the song on loop. Strangely, he couldn't find the stop button. The player wasn't open...

 ** _Away, away, in the deep dark wood, trembled a sheep who was always good._**

"Great, now you're breaking." He muted the phone and tossed it on the dresser.

 ** _Away, away, in the deep dark wood, trembled a sheep who was always good._**

"You kidding me?" he jammed his fingers in his ears.

 _ **Away, away, in the deep dark wood, trembled a sheep who was always good,**_ came her voice, just as loud as before.

Nick scrambled away from the phone, but the lullaby continued, endlessly echoing… in his head… "You're stuck in my head…" an excited gasp escaped his lips. "I got a song stuck in my head!"

There was a swell! A rush!

The lullaby kept restarting. The excitement made it hard, but with enough concentration he made it to the end. After a couple tries, the lyrics flowed without interruption. Nick sat back and marveled at the alien sensation. _"What about the others?"_ He conjured a memory of the dance but he still heard Judy's lullaby. Finnick's lessons, lullaby.

And now it was annoying. No longer finding the experience novel, and the drink making him even woozier, Nick laid down to sleep.

 ** _Away, away, in the deep dark wood, trembled a sheep who was always good._**

"This sucks. How could Judy stand this?!"

His frustrations calmed.

 _Judy…_

He ignored the mistakes she made and simply… listened.

 ** _Away, away, in the deep dark wood, trembled a sheep who was always good._**

It was like she was right there next to him. As if he could turn over and find her at his bedside, snickering at his sleep deprivation. Of course, she wouldn't have meant it. He could always tell. There was a sweetness in the way she teased him. The bunny cared. She put the needs of every mammal in Zootopia before her own. She was the bunny who spent school dances looking out for fellow students instead of dating. The one who tried everything to help him get it.

" _Did the song make you sleepy?_ " The tone of her voice when she sprang in her car seat. Excited and anticipating. Strangely… Nick could hear the same tone in her lullaby,

" _For me?_ " Enthralled. Like that silent dance in her room had shaken her world to the core. That was there too.

" _You have music?_ " Hope. When she saw those random singles on his phone… A chance that the light at the end of the tunnel wasn't a train but an exit. Why would Judy sing like this?

" _Just be happy..."_ A plea. A quiet, desperate cry for him to listen one last time. This wasn't the 'Sheep Grove' Nick grew up with. The way her voice… Her voice made him... feel… He gripped his mattress.

"Something's there!"

That sting was back. His rapidly beating heart ached. This wasn't envy. This was a different ache. He could hear it. Under the words, there was a message. She was trying to tell him something! He could feel it!

But what was it?

The fox bolted out of his apartment and charged down the dark streets.

 ** _Alone and scared, she dreamt of home and wished she had never tried to roam. _**

The lyrics didn't matter. He had heard them millions of times. It was the voice. Judy's voice. He cut across the park towards the Grand Pangolin Apartments, rounding the lake at breakneck speed. His still healing ribs burned from the strain, but he pushed on. He was almost there. He tried to recall what it was that lullabies were supposed to make you feel.

Safety? Care? Warmth? Something else?

Nick raced up the stairs, down the corridor and frantically banged on the door. "Judy! Please, wake up!"

"Nick? What's wrong?"

He turned. She was in the hall, her apartment key in her paw. He had ran past her.

 ** _She wished and wished one after the other, until she swore she could hear her mother._**

The fox tried to catch his breath, "Why—Why do mammals sing lullabies again?"

"What?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Lullabies, why do they sing them, please?" he asked, the desperation cracked in his dry throat.

She hesitated a few moments, before slowly coming to him. He heard her worry, "To, uh… um, show you're with someone who cares…"

" _Not that."_

"You're safe…"

" _Not that either."_

"To make you feel—"

"Loved!" he blurted.

Judy didn't move. She didn't dare say another word.

"When you sang, I heard… I felt…" Nick struggled, "If it's love… If you… me..."

That look, he just couldn't read that look of hers.

 ** _Towards the voice she ran as hard as she was able, until she fell into the arms of an angel._**

The keys slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor. The lullaby ended. His mind was clear.

"Then I… I think… I think… I get it."

She kissed him.

THE END

* * *

 _Did you get it?_

 _Take a moment._

 _It's okay if you didn't._

 _You don't have to experience a tragic loss to feel like your world is falling apart._

 _You don't need to be on an epic journey to feel like life is crashing at your feet._

 _In the same way, a love story doesn't have to be filled with stolen glances, endless blushes, or hidden desires._

 _No, love isn't always dramatic, and it's not always filled with the people you think._

 _But it is all so very real._

 _Fanfics are weird and to appreciate them. We have to be a little bit weird ourselves._

 _From the stories I usually put out, one might think my goal is to make you laugh and to entertain you. But I want to connect. With a friend. With a stranger. To connect with people in places I will never be able to reach in my lifetime._

 _To dedicate hours, days, weeks, months to one paragraph so I can express ideas that I could never figure out how to say in the moment. To introduce you to a subject you all know and make you look at it in a way you had never considered._

 _To help you escape for a second._

 _To give you an excuse to grip your sides and squeal like an idiot, to allow you to scream at your computer for the hero to get back up, to let you cry like the child you once were._

 _Because stories are beautiful._

 _Cringe-worthy teen romances, overly-researched historical reimaginings, blood-drenched horrors, hell, even those horribly misspelled angst-gasms that you can't tell whether they were written as a joke or not. They are beautiful._

 _I keep reading because each and every one of them came from someone brave enough to try. Brave enough to shout at the internet, "I wrote a Dragonball Super/My Little Pony Equestria Girls crossover fanfic! Come at me, trolls!"_

 _So the next time you're worried that no one will like your story, don't._

 _I didn't know what I was trying to say with "I Don't Get It". I was writing what I felt and trying to tell a story I'd never read before. That's it._

 _And that's what stories are about. So someone somewhere can connect with you, appreciate your idea and love the fandom you love._

 _So try. Get it?_

 _I write slow, I don't write often, but when I do, I Write Big._


End file.
